Fairy Tale Endings
by lupuscarmen13
Summary: A gift exchange fic. Love is a fickle thing, like fate. Unfortunately for Viktor Krum, fate seems to have something against him. One-shot. WARNING: May be triggering. Pairings: HermionexRon, HermionexKrum


A/N:

**I know, I'm late on Stolen and all my other fics. I'm sorry! I went on a week long car trip to New York and D.C., so I thought I might as well get my challenge up...so...**

**Here you go, D-Savano! **

**Post Writing Notes: ...whoa. This turned out a lot darker than I originally thought. Um...**

**WARNINGS/TRIGGERS:**

**Implied rape, drug use, multiple deaths, possible suicide, death of loved ones, depression, etc. And to think this was originally a T rated fic...**

**Rating: M**

**Pairings: KrumxHermione, RonxHermione**

**POV: Viktor Krum**

* * *

Fairy Tale Endings

* * *

The moon fell against her sleek hair, illuminating her as they danced around the floor. Her eyes sparkled with a happiness he rarely noticed from the younger girl- normally, they were haggard, worried, nervous...

He shook his head slightly, smiling as he spun her. Her laughter spilled from her lips, a bright sound that sent delicious shivers down his spine. The song ended and the pair breathed heavily, cheeks flushed.

"I vill get drinks," he said in his rough accent, bending down and kissing her pale hand.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Viktor."

* * *

"Some boy made her cry," a fellow Durmstrang student said in their mother tongue, averting his eyes from Krum's intense gaze. "Last I saw, she was running away."

Krum nodded and turned away. "Thank you," he murmured, the glasses of punch cold in his hand. Slowly, he weaved his way through the crowds, careful not to spill a drop of the red drink. He finally escaped into the hallway and sat heavily on the stone staircase.

He let out a soft sigh, trying to ignore the pain that was seething underneath his calm composure. Hermione had left without saying goodbye. Gently, he set down his date's cup, the sound of clinking glass clunking through the echoing hall. He could distantly hear the sounds of music and chatter from the ballroom.

What had that boy done to make such a strong girl as Hermione cry?

* * *

"Hermy-ninny!"

The girl turned around, her once-carefully attended hair undone and frizzing. Her eyes were red and she seemed to still be upset.

Viktor ran up, a flower he had conjured in his hand. "Vere haff you been? I haff been searching for you."

Hermione hurriedly wiped her eyes and gave him a shaky smile. "Sorry, Viktor. I just...I ran into an insufferable..." She sighed.

Viktor awkwardly patted her on the back, his dark eyes filled with compassion. "Who vas it?" Viktor was determined to get payback on the one who hurt such an amazing girl.

Hermione hesitated. "One of my friends..."

"He is not your friend, Hermy- _Her-my-oh-nee_, if he hurt you." His hand brushed aside a rapidly curling strand of hair from Hermione's brown eyes.

Hermione let out a soft laugh. "He's an idiot..." Her eyes lightened as they met Viktor's own dark depths. She smiled softly, then suddenly laughed.

Viktor raised an eyebrow and Hermione laughed harder. "Vot? Vot is it?"

"You said my name right!" Hermione said, finally cutting off her giggles.

Viktor smiled back and said, "Hermione."

Hermione took his hands and said clearly, "Viktor."

They sat in silence for a little longer and Hermione began to lean against the older teen. "It's hard to believe that you will only be eighteen in April."

Viktor smiled sadly, wrapping one arm gently around her shoulders. "I may as vell be eighteen now," he said. "Since going to the vorld cup, few treat me as a child. It is...nice, but also lonely. I am still young, yes? I feel as if you understand this."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I'm mature for fifteen," she said. "and sometimes people forget I am only a teenager, especially my friends. But I still am treated as a child by my parents and teachers."

Viktor kissed the top of her bushy hair tentatively. When Hermione didn't jump away or stiffen, he relaxed. "You do not mind?"

Hermione looked up at him. "Mind what?"

"Me being two years older?" Viktor searched her eyes. "And me being famous?"  
Hermione laughed. "My best friend is famous, and," she said brightly. "2 years is nothing. Unlike the boys in my year, I can talk to you. Of course I don't mind!"

Viktor felt all the tension and nerves in his body flow away. Straightening, he pulled Hermione into a hug, eliciting a squeak from the younger girl. "Thank you, Hermione."

Hermione hugged Viktor back, smiling against his dress robes.

The sound of the ball seemed miles away.

* * *

Hermione gently closed the book, dust wafting up from it, turning gold from candlelight. She looked up at Viktor, her eyes filled with something he couldn't identify.

* * *

She closed the distance between them and gently kissed him. It was simple and light, but she lingered on his lips, her eyes meeting his. Viktor closed his eyes.

* * *

Worry flooded his entire being as he realized what the egg had meant. Hermione was at the bottom of the lake, in danger. His eyes narrowed as he began the transformation, listening as the gun went off.

He dived.

* * *

Memories of the only girl, the only person, to care about Viktor Krum the person, flowed through his mind as he raced towards where the merfolk were holding her. Seeing her for the first time, steadily reading her textbook and only glancing up as he dropped the books on the table, frustrated with the fan girls behind him. Neither said a word. Then later, finally talking to her and realizing that she was one of Harry Potter's, this country's celebrity, best friends. It was then that he realized that this was maybe the one girl who wouldn't have ulterior motives for befriending him. That was the first time he relaxed around her.

Conversations with the bushy-haired girl, her beauty growing everyday as her hair frizzed more and the bags under her eyes grew.

Hermione agreeing to go to the ball with him.

Dancing as if they were flying on air at the Yule Ball.

Searching for her after some jerk made her cry.

Comforting her.

Their first and only kiss.

Her understanding gaze as he spilled his childhood to her. The gentle, comforting hug she had given him as he cried.

Hermione rejected his request to come to Bulgaria with him.

Learning Hermione's lonely childhood and the bemused, loving nature of her parents.

Raging against Rita Skeeter and her stupid articles.

Her reaction when she found out that he had gone to Harry because he was afraid that he had competition.

Hermione commenting about how he only seemed to smile while flying...and around her. Viktor telling her why.

The possibility of a relationship between them.

He swam faster.

* * *

Viktor dropped the quill, his hand tired. "Finished."  
"Are you?" Hermione said in Bulgarian. Viktor smiled at her, the shy, quiet one reserved just for her. "Let's see then."  
Viktor pushed over the paper titled 'Viktor's New Year's Resolutions'.

Hermione began to read aloud, "Ask the red headed girl, 'What's up with the Bulgarian scarf, already? Did you think I was going to leap to you and say, 'you are wearing my home county's colors! I shall snog you now and take you to my homeland!'." She laughed and read aloud another, "Work on posture. Stop slouching."

Viktor unconsciously straightened in his seat and took the list back. "Make a shirt that reads, Slavic= Automatically Evil. Or, 'So, how many Durmstrang students have tried to kill you? I am waiting." Or possibly, "I am not grumpy, this is my game face.'"

Hermione laughed again. "Definitely do the shirts!" Her eyes glimmered with humor. "I'll help you."

"You will?" Viktor said.

Hermione smiled slyly. "Only if you'll help me with something else."

Viktor felt a sudden sense of foreboding.

* * *

Viktor screamed in his mind as he was forced to cast an Unforgivable Curse on his fellow competitors. He struggled and fought, but the fog in his mind was unrelenting. His confusion and anger grew as the memories of the other times he had been under the mind-control curse (those for lessons at Durmstrang) contrasted this experience.

_Viktor's mind was deliciously empty as the Dark Arts teacher commanded the eleven year old to do several things- jump on desks, run around in circles, and jinx another student._

_ Viktor was thirteen. The teacher nodded at him as he broke the curse immediately. Two years of practice made the Imperious nearly worthless to use against him._

_ Exhausted from the latest professional Quidditch game, Viktor slouched through the empty halls of Durmstrang, his broom held loosely in one hand. Suddenly, he could hear footsteps behind him; spinning around, he brought his wand up to face the threat, but it was too late, "IMPERIO!" Nothing happened. Viktor turned angry eyes on the suddenly nervous seventh year boy._

Viktor could withstand the Imperius of an above-average wizard with ease, but whoever had cast the spell on him- it looked like the man, Moody, that taught Defense- was far above that power and likely intimately experienced with the spell. The effects were slightly different, however, as if the caster was specifically controlling what Viktor experienced. Instead of a fog-like, thoughtless state, Viktor was helpless to do anything as he watched his body commit atrocities. Someone wanted him to suffer. He screamed again in his mind, praying that Hermione and the others would forgive him.

* * *

Viktor watched with horrified nausea as Harry and Cedric came crashing to the ground. Only ten minutes earlier had he been snapped out of the Imperius curse to find that two of the champions had disappeared.

He jumped as the bodies appeared and rose to his feet. Harry was bleeding and battered and not moving and Cedric...

Cedric did not appear to be breathing.

* * *

Hermione and Viktor sat beside the lake, the former wrapped in his arms. Hermione was crying softly as the stress of the past day finally caught up with her. Harry had been tortured, Voldemort was back, Cedric was dead, Viktor had been forced under the Imperio, and Fleur was in shock. But that wasn't all; Professor Moody had apparently been a Death Eater using Polyjuice, the government decided to ignore the truth, Harry had woken up in the middle of the night screaming, Karkaroff had fled, Viktor would be leaving soon, and she had gotten no sleep. Viktor wasn't much better off.

The pair held each other as the sun slowly rose, tears tracing their way down their cheeks.

* * *

Viktor waved goodbye from the ship as it carried him away, his heart heavy.

* * *

The pages flew by as he looked for the right English word to use for his letter. He was five pages in and still he had not said enough. He missed her.

* * *

It was November 3rd, 1995.

Viktor scanned through the letter, a big, stupid smile on his usually scowling face. Hermione had written back again! And this time, it was even longer than his last message!

* * *

Viktor zoomed around the Quidditch pitch, trying to forget the worries that had arrived with Hermione's latest letter. That Umbridge women sounded like bad news.

* * *

His heart clenched as he scanned the British paper, the Daily Prophet, and then Hermione's letter. He hoped she was safe.

* * *

Viktor dropped his fork on the table, his heart speeding up. His eyes scanned the newspaper article, a lump in his throat forming. Why hadn't Hermione written him about this?! He read:

_** TERROR IN THE MINISTRY- YOU-KNOW-WHO IS BACK!**_

_ Dumbledore's Army takes on Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries! Sirius Black innocent!_

_ -Lizabelle Roberts, Daily Prophet Reporter_

_ LONDON- In a dramatic turn of events yesterday, Harry Potter, 15, and his band of friends- Hermione Granger, 16, Ron Weasely, 16, Luna Lovegood, 14, Ginny Weasely, 15, and Neville Longbottom, 16, took on Death Eaters and later You-Know-Who himself in the bowls of the Ministry. For what? No one seems to know. However, questions have been raised about how 6 teenagers and more than a dozen Death Eaters managed to sneak into the Ministry in broad daylight. Even more intriguing is how Sirius Black, 37, formerly thought to be a mass-murderer was tossed into Azkaban without a trial. Innocence revealed posthumously (he died fighting cousin Bellatrix Lestrange), what lack of justice must have occurred to the poor wizard?_

_ However, the point of this report is to let you, the reader, know about the Battle of Hogwarts. _

_ At some point after the History of Magic OWL at Hogwarts, in which Harry Potter allegedly acted strange, the group dubbed 'Dumbledore's Army' set off to London. How and in what manner they arrived in is uncertain, as well as why they left. There, the six encountered Death Eaters and began to fight. Miraculously, all six survived, though with many injuries, most grievously apparent in Miss Granger. _

_ Soon after, a group of wizards and witches came to back up the children, one of whom was Sirius Black. Potter apparently teamed up with the former felon but soon was witness to Black's death. _

_ At some point, Mr. Potter found himself separated from the group and in the presence of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Shortly after, Albus Dumbledore arrived on the scene and fought the Dark Lord. It was then, as You-Know-Who was retreating, that Minister Fudge arrived and saw the dark wizard. _

_ Hermione Granger is supposedly still healing in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. _

Viktor swallowed hard, his heart pumping rapidly in his chest. _Hermione..._

* * *

Another year passed, filled with letters and once, a phone call. Viktor had been in muggle America for a Quidditch game during the summer and had stopped by a phone booth. Remembering the number, he went through the international craziness and finally heard Herimone's voice for the first time in a year. They had spoken until Viktor's pocket money had run out.

* * *

When Viktor had heard about Death Eaters storming Hogwarts and the death of Headmaster Dumbledore, he spent days panicking until Hermione's letter came.

* * *

Viktor's anxiety only grew as he heard of the conflicts over in the UK.

* * *

When Viktor received the invitation from Fleur, he knew there was no chance of him staying in Bulgaria. Luckily, the Quidditch season was called off for the year due to the war over in Europe.

Bags packed, good robes on, and a mild Notice-Me-Not charm applied, Viktor took off for England, ready to check on his friends and Hermione.

* * *

Viktor's face lit up as he saw Hermione. He struggled to not run over and made his way, picking through the crowd. He scowled slightly at the sight of a pair of redheads- that Ron boy and someone he didn't know. However, he ignored them for the most point, holding out his invitation to Ron. His eyes were on Hermione, however. "You look vunderful."

"Viktor!" she shrieked, dropping her bag. Red splashed across her cheeks as she leaned down, words spilling from her mouth. "I didn't know you were- goodness- it's lovely to see- how are you?"

Viktor gave one of his small smiles but before he could answer, Ron butted in. "How come you're here?" he asked, ears red.

Viktor raised his eyebrows. "Fleur invited me."

The second boy held out his hand, rolling his eyes at the fuming Ronald. "I can show you to your seat if you would like."

Viktor nodded, listening with a little bit of jealous satisfaction as Hermione scolded a scowling Ron. The pair walked through the crowd and towards the marquee. "You friend is not pleased to see me," he said, then glanced at the boy's red hair. "Or is he a relative?"

"Cousin," the boy muttered, but Viktor was a little distracted by the buzz that had popped up with the sight of him. Sighing quietly, Viktor tried to ignore them. Soon, Viktor was plopped in his seat by the red headed boy and ushered away by the amusing Weasley twins.

* * *

"...then I declare you bonded for life."

Viktor was jarred from his fantasy where he proposed to Hermione; red dusted his cheeks. As a shower of silver stars fell upon the now married couple, Fred and George, the twins, led a round of applause. The golden balloons overhead burst with a flock of paradise birds and tiny golden bells. The crowd was ushered to their feet and Viktor pushed his fantasy out of his head; Hermione was only 17, nearly 18. He was 21. It was not going to happen any time soon. They weren't even dating!

With that thought in mind, Viktor watched with saddened eyes as the chairs flew into the air and gold spread across the ground to form a dance floor.

* * *

"Viktor!" Fleur called from the front of the dance floor. Viktor glanced at Hermione and gave her a sheepish shrug, releasing her hands.

"I must go," Viktor said reluctantly, backing away as the song began. "I have not spoken to the bride and groom yet."

"We can't have that!" Hermione teased, her eyes sparkling. She suddenly paused. "When did you get so friendly with her?"

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

"Only of that eyebrow!" Hermione replied lightly. "So?"

"We occasionally exchanged letters as well," Viktor replied. "She was rather shaken by the whole..." He trailed off.

Hermione's smile wavered and she placed a hand on his arm. "Don't forget you owe me a dance!"

Viktor smiled at her and kissed her hand. "I vould be a fool to refuse such an offer," he said, slowly making his way from her and towards Bill and Fleur.

* * *

Viktor firmly shook Fleur's hand, a polite expression on his face. "It is very nice to see you," he said, "Thank you for inviting me."

Fleur waved it off, leaning into her husband's side. "It is no problem," she said in her trilling accent. "We champions must stick together, no?"

Viktor's eyes dulled slightly. "Yes," he said in a slightly quieter voice. "Ve must. Do you know where Harry is?"

Fleur sighed. "He was unable to make it," she said. "It is too dangerous, both for him and for us."

Viktor nodded. "I understand. Do you know if he is safe?"

"As safe as he is going to be," Bill replied, wrapping an arm around his bride. "with this war going on..."

The three fell into a melancholy silence. Finally, Fleur shook herself and smiled at Viktor. "Thank you for coming, Viktor," she said, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her beautiful face.

Viktor nodded again, his eyes conveying something his mouth couldn't. Something passed between the young French bride and the young Bulgarian sportsman, two people who had gone through trials together. Both broke into soft, small smiles and Viktor tilted his head towards the pair. "I must go," he said. "I have promised Hermione a dance."

* * *

They spun around the tent, eyes bright. A smile played across Viktor's face as he spun Hermione, her laughter lifting his heart.

* * *

Viktor sipped from the cup, trying to keep his temper. Red spilled over the golden sides as his hands shook from fury. Finally, unable to stand still and do nothing, he slammed down his free hand and marched over to Hermione, Ron, and the young red-head from earlier.

He dropped into the seat next to them, scowling. "Who is that man in yellow?"

"That's Xenophilius Lovegood, he's the father of a friend of ours," said Ron. There was a touch of defensiveness and pugnaciousness in his voice. "Come and dance," he added abruptly to Hermione.

Viktor blinked as Hermione's face ran through several emotions- surprise, happiness, and pleasure. They soon vanished into the dancing throng. "Ah, they are together now?" he asked, glancing at the red head.

"Er- sort of," the boy replied.

"Who are you?" Viktor asked.

"Barny Weasley."

Viktor shook his hand.

"You, Barny- you know this man Lovegood vell?"

"No, I only met him today. Why?" Barny replied, furrowing his brows.

Viktor glared over his drink at Lovegood, who was talking animatedly with several wizards. "Because," said Viktor, fighting with his memories and emotions, "if he vos not a guest of Fleur's, I vould duel him, here and now, for vearing that filthy sign upon his chest."

"Sign?" Barny asked, bring his gaze to the Lovegood man as well. Viktor glowered at the triangular eye gleaming in the torchlight. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Grindelvald. That is Grindelvald's sign," Viktor growled, the memory of his father's nightmares and his grandmother's terrifying flashbacks running through his mind.

"Grindelwald...the Dark wizard Dumbledore defeated?" Barny asked.

"Exactly." Viktor chewed on the side of his mouth and then said, "Grindelvald killed my grandfather, for instance. Of course, he vos never poverful in this country, they said he feared Dumbledore- and rightly, seeing how he was finished. But this," Viktor pointed one thick finger at the now laughing man, "this is his symbol, I recognized it at vunce: Grindelvald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ven he vos a pupil there. Some idiots copied it onto their books and clothes, thinking to shock, make themselves impressive- until those of us who had lost family to Grindelvald taught them better."

Barny seemed shocked and unsure. "Are you-er-quite sure it's Grindelwald's-?"

"I am not mistaken," Viktor said coldly, turning his glare on Barny. He would not lie about something like this. "I valked past that sign for several years, I know it vell."

"Well, there's a chance," said Harry, "that Xenophilius doesn't actually know what the symbol means. The Lovegoods are quite...unusual. He could easily have picked it up somewhere and think it's a cross section of the head of a Crumple-Horned-Snorkack, or something."

Viktor blinked. "The cross section of a vot?"

Barny shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Well, I don't know what they are, but apparently he and his daughter go on holiday looking for them...that's her!" Barny suddenly pointed at a girl dancing alone, waving her arms around her head.

"...Vy is she doing that?"

"Probably trying to get rid of a Wrackspurt."

Viktor blinked again. Was he making fun of him? Setting down his drink, Viktor withdrew his wand and tapped it on his thigh. Sparks flew.

"Gregorovitch!" Barny exclaimed suddenly and Viktor jumped.

"Vot about him?" asked Viktor, suddenly on guard.

"He's a wandmaker!" Harry said excitedly.

"...I know that," said Viktor.

"He made your wand! That's why I thought Quidditch-!"

Viktor narrowed his dark brows, feeling a ripple of unease. "How did you know Gregorovitch made my vand?"

"I...I read it somewhere, I think," said Barny. "In a, a fan magazine."

Viktor sat back, glancing at his wand. "I had not realized I ever discussed my vand with fans," he said slowly.

"So...er...where is Gregorovitch these days?" asked Barny curiously.

Viktor shrugged. "He retired several years ago," he replied. "I vos one of the last to purchase a Gregorovitch vand. They are the best- although I know, of course, you Britons set much store by Ollivander."

Barny did not answer and seemed distracted. Viktor followed his gaze and smiled at the sight of a red-headed girl like Barny. "This girl is very nice looking," he said, trying to get his mind off Grindelwald, Hermione, and Ron, the_ chickidjya_. For a moment, he allowed himself to entertain the idea of dating one of these pretty girls until Hermione got over the red-headed gus. "She also a relative of yours?"

"Yeah," said Barny, suddenly looking strangely irritated. "and she's seeing someone. Jealous type. Big bloke. You wouldn't want to cross him."

Viktor grunted, irritated himself now. "Vot," he said, pouring the last of his drink into his mouth and pulling himself to his feet, "is the point of being an international Quidditch player if all the good-looking girls are taken?"

He stomped off, leaving a quiet Barny behind.

* * *

Viktor stared out the window as he drove towards his home, his mind back in England.

* * *

The war went on and Viktor followed all the newspapers and radio broadcasts he could get his hands on. He dated and practiced with the team, but there was always a pit of anxiety and a thought and prayer for Hermione.

* * *

Viktor kicked the pebble, jealousy eating at his heart. Around and around, Hermione and Ronald spun, dancing across the floor. Hermione Granger was now Hermione Weasely.

It was over.

* * *

**The Daily Prophet:**

_Entertainment_

May 13, 2007

**Viktor Krum, famous Seeker to be godfather of Hermione and Ron Weasely's son!**

* * *

**Witches Weekly:**

_October 17, 2008_

**Sorry girls! Viktor Krum marries Elsa Valdmire after 5 years of dating!**

* * *

**Witches Weekly:**

_September 28, 2010_

**Viktor Krum is now a father! Meet baby Andon Lyuben!**

* * *

**BULGARIANS VS BRAZIL: THE 2014 QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP!**

**Can veteran Seeker Viktor Krum finally win it all?**

"Good luck, tatko," Andon said, hugging his father, who was clad in his Quidditch uniform. "Be safe, yes?"

"Yes," Viktor replied, sweeping the boy up into his arms. He turned to his wife who stood there with a slightly rueful but happy smile. He silently handed Andon over to her and kissed her softly.

"Ew!" Andon squealed, covering his eyes.

Viktor and Elsa stared into each other's eyes for a moment and then turned around.

They had said everything they needed to already.

* * *

**Quidd!tch:**

June 19, 2015

**BULGARIANS off to an amazing season beginning! Seeker Krum reaches the top of his game...**

* * *

**The Daily Prophet:**

_Obituary_

November 1, 2015

**Elsa Krum, wife of Viktor Krum, died today after a long battle with a rare, incurable wizarding disease. Famous Seeker Viktor Krum left a widower. See page 4 for more.**

* * *

The sky was overcast, perfect for the occasion. Viktor wished for rain.

Beside him, young Andon held his hand, trying being strong for his father. Viktor wanted to pick up the boy and leave, but he had to stay. He had to.

Viktor swallowed hard as Hermione came towards him, Elsa's last words playing in his head.

_Don't be alone because of me_, she had said. _Find someone else. Love again. Please. For me. I love you, Viktor._

Viktor gave her a shaking smile as she suddenly wrapped him in a hug. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, squeezing him tightly.

They broke apart and Viktor subtly wiped his eyes and pulled at his collar, suddenly feeling stifled in his formal robes.

"Elsa loved you," Viktor suddenly said, his voice rough. "She said often near the...near the end that she wished she had become friends with you sooner."

Hermione smiled sadly and took her own son's hand. "I wish the same."

Viktor gave her a nod and picked up his son. The hardly six year old child made no protest. "Thank you for coming, Hermione."

"I wouldn't miss it," Hermione said softly, leaning forward and pecking Viktor on the cheek. "Not for the world. Neither would Ron."

Viktor gave a rueful smile. Much had changed since the first time they had met. Now, years later, Ron got along decently with the man, even though he was still jealous of the time Viktor spent with Hermione. "Where is Ron?"

Hermione glanced back behind her and Viktor spotted him, standing next to Harry. The black haired man spotted him and nodded, his emotions plain in those green eyes. The pair had grown rather close over the years and had begun to send letters back and forth.

"Come with me?" Viktor asked, suddenly transported back to a wedding many years ago, where a jealous red head had pulled Hermione to the dance floor. He shook his head.

"Are we going to see chicho Harry?" Andon asked tiredly, leaning his head against his father's shoulder.

"Yes, my sin," Viktor replied, nuzzling his son's soft black hair with his nose. Andon tightened his grip around his father's neck.

The quartet headed off towards the small knot of people underneath a sycamore tree.

Thunder rolled across the sky.

* * *

Andon was 18 now, Viktor reflected, staring at the spot where his son has Disapparated from. He held a bourbon in his hand and stared at the photo of his son shaking hands with the British minister, Hermione Granger. She had finally divorced him with the children out of the house. They were reportedly still close friends, apparently, but romantically weren't working out.

This was his chance, Viktor knew. But he also knew it would be wrong, like he was rebounding after Elsa's death. He knew it would seem like he was just biding his time until his wife was dead and Ron was out of the picture.

Of course, this wasn't true. Viktor had truly loved Elsa and had gotten over Hermione, but...

He sighed, sipping the drinking. He wasn't sure what to do anymore. An crippling injury had firmly ended his Quidditch career and though he had more than enough money to live two comfortable life times, he wanted to do something.

But that wasn't working out.

No matter what Viktor tried, his fame was a curse that ended every job he tried in some way or another.

Well, at least he had his son and friends.

* * *

5 years had passed. Viktor had finally found his niche- an inspirational speaker and a coach of Quidditch. He enjoyed meeting with youths and inspiring them- it reminded him of Elsa, the way she could rouse a crowd with a few words. When he spoke, he felt closer to her.

Viktor blinked as Lysander handed him a drink. They were in New York City, USA, to give a talk on Quidditch and sportsmanship to young American wizards. Currently, they were in Lysander's suite in a private hotel.

"What's this?" Viktor joked, taking the glass. "It is not like you to give drink freely."

Lysander waved it off, a smile on his face. "It is nothing," he assured Viktor, "just a thank you for coming with me. I thought that I would have to bring Aleksander." Lysander gave a little shiver.

Viktor let out a laugh and downed the drink.

Everything went black.

* * *

Viktor threw the glass at the wall, tears streaming down his face. The small room was dark and only a candle flickered. The middle aged wizard was shattered. Broken.

"I am weak," he muttered, then screamed. "I AM _WEAK_!"

He collapsed to the floor, bring his hands over his head. The memories, horrible and breathless swept through him-

_Lysander giving him the drink-_

_ Viktor suddenly helpless, going along with it-_

_ Kissing, touching-_

_ He could do nothing-_

_ Just like before, when he hurt Cedric-_

_ Only this time it is all wrong and he is-_

Viktor sobbed.

* * *

Viktor stared in disbelief at the man in front of him. "...Andon...dead?"

"I am sorry," the British official said, shifting back and forth uncomfortably. "He was killed protecting Head Auror Ronald Weasely. Headmaster Potter and Minister Granger took down the traitor, but not before Mr. Krum was killed. We ask that you attend a ceremony where we will present you with your son's Order of Merlin, 3rd class..."

Viktor zoned out after this, lost in grief.

* * *

Viktor made headlines when he attacked Ron Weasely, blaming him for his son's death. Suddenly, he found himself with few friends besides Hermione and Harry and their children.

* * *

He leaned on her shoulder, his face lined with dried tear tracks. "It seems like everyone is dying around me..." he whispered.

"Oh, Viktor..." Hermione whispered, kissing his hair. "That's not true."

"Then what is?" Viktor cried. "If there is a god out there, why is He so cruel as to take them away? As to ruin me completely?"

"I don't know," Hermione said softly, turning his face with her small hands. She stared into his grieved, tortured eyes and leaned in.

For the first time since Lysander, Viktor let himself sink into a kiss.

* * *

Viktor and Hermione became a couple. Things were looking up.

* * *

"Run, Hermione!" Viktor screamed, casting a shield in front of them. "Go, now!"

"I can't just-"

"Please!" Viktor begged, sending curse after curse to the would-be assassins. "They want you. You're injured. I can't lose you too!"

Hermione took off, limping heavily. She screamed as Ron fell beside her. Her eyes darkened in hate and she promptly killed his killer. Though she was bleeding heavily from the arm, she plunged back into battle.

"HERMIONE!" Viktor screamed, but knew it was useless; her ex-husband had just been killed. There was no way she was leaving the battle.

Swearing, he turned his mind on the battle and took down another dark wizard.

Minutes passed like hours and Viktor found himself getting slower. He hadn't fought in years. Just another reason why he was weak.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air and Viktor spun around to see Hermione fall to the floor as if in slow motion.

Time seemed to stop for a moment before Viktor was struck by a curse in his left arm.

He screamed and for a moment he could see his world filled with blood.

Then everything went black.

* * *

He woke in a hospital, sometime in the early morning. Viktor woke slowly, fighting his way through the unconsciousness. _Hermione._..

Finally, he pulled his eyes open. And realized something was...off.

With growing apprehension, Viktor glanced down at his left arm only to find there was nothing there.

He screamed again.

* * *

"...dead?" Viktor repeated numbly to a sobbing Molly Weasley. "Ron and Hermione?"

Arthur Weasely, grayed and world-weary nodded, silently holding out a bottle Firewhisky. Viktor took it, collapsing in the seat the elder Weasleys had offered earlier. Arthur and Molly's grandchildren, especially Ron and Hermione's children, were crying or in shock. Harry had long since left the room, where to, Viktor didn't know.

A week had passed and Viktor had finally escaped the hospital and the awards the British government was trying to give him. No one would tell him anything, other then that he had lost his arm in the last seconds before back up had arrived. Only one dark wizard had been left standing at that point, the same one that had killed Hermione.

A week later, and Viktor was the only survivor left with a soul. The three surviving attackers had been Kissed.

But until now, Viktor had known none of this.

His hand shaking, he tossed back a mouthful directly from the bottle. Once he had swallowed, he looked up at Arthur. "I vas going to ask to marry her. Hermione. And I vas going to ask Ron for his blessing."

If Arthur had noticed Viktor's worsening accent, he didn't say anything. Molly's eyes filled with tears again.

Viktor took another swig.

He wanted to get drunk.

He wanted everything to go away.

* * *

Viktor soon disappeared almost completely from the public's eye. No one knew exactly where he was, other than that he occasionally visited Harry Potter. Until one day, after being sick of years of pestering, he accepted the post of Defense at Hogwarts.

* * *

Viktor stayed in the job for 7 years before withdrawing, unable the handle the trauma he had been through. Apologizing to Harry, he disappeared again.

* * *

Viktor raised an eyebrow to the muggle teenager. "And why would I want such a thing?"  
"It would help," the teen said, examining the man. "I can tell. You've been through bad things. This will erase that whenever you take it, I swear."

"You've used it?" Viktor asked. The teenager nodded.

He hesitated for a moment, knowing he stood on a pinnacle. Should he take it or not?

Finally, Viktor made his choice.

He took it.

* * *

5 years later, former famous Quidditch player Viktor Krum was found dead from a muggle drug overdose with a smile on his face.

* * *

**A/N:**

**…**

**um...this turned out a lot darker than I planned. Wow...review? I hope you liked it Daki!**

**….**

_Note: Andon Lyuben together means "inestimable love". _


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